Workaholic's Holiday
by Chika-chan
Summary: Percy wants to surprise Harry on his birthday. So he goes to Harry's house, and gets a little surprise of his own. (excuse any mistakes and spelling errors, please)


Like most of my stuff shall prove to be, this is SLASH!!! MUWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! ::coughs:: Er . sorry 'bout that. Anyway .  
  
Pairing: Percy/Harry (there aren't enough "non-canon" pairings out there)  
  
Rating: Sap, sap, sap and some more sap, with a bit of plot thrown in here and there.  
  
Enjoy!  
  
1 Workaholic's Holiday  
  
Perhaps it was the feeling that if he didn't do something soon, he would go crazy. It might have been that he thought that by seeing Harry in one piece, and still sane, life would be good again. Whatever it was that had prompted him to go out and buy not only a cake, but a present, Percy had been arguing with himself all day, and well into the night.  
  
He had, of course, gone to work that day; he went to work everyday unless he had some sort of bed-rendering sickness. As usual, Mr. Crouch's secretary greeted him with a smile and a nod, and an invitation to join her for tea. And, as usual, Percy had declined the invitation, claiming he had far too much work to do.  
  
At the present moment, however, work was the last thing on his mind. Having taken its place there was a far more interesting and delicate subject: Harry Potter.  
  
"What am I doing?" Percy muttered to himself, pacing about his office.  
  
Worrying about Harry, you stupid git, his subconscious answered, You- Know-Who is back and ready to kill him, and you'd like nothing more to protect him.  
  
"Be that as it may," he argued with himself, looking down at the box in hand, "I've never bought him a birthday present. And that's got nothing to do with protection."  
  
Oh, come off it. You know you got him a birthday present simply because you like him, so leave it at that.  
  
Sighing, Percy resigned himself to going to Harry Potter's house, with a present in one hand and a cake in the other. He'd been arguing with himself all day about this, wondering if it was a smart thing to do, and only now had he come to a decision.  
  
"Hope he won't mind me Apparating," he muttered.  
  
Then disappeared.  
  
* * *  
  
He appeared in Harry's room at number Four, Privet Drive, with a slight 'popping' noise. There were no lights on and the entire house seemed still, a fact he noted with great interest because of its oddness. Looking out the window, he realized exactly why there was no one awake.  
  
It was night.  
  
Guess I waited a little too long, he thought sheepishly, Maybe I should just leave these here and come back tomorrow .  
  
He glanced at Harry's bed and cautiously walked over, placing his present and the cake on the bedside table. Then he chanced to look down, froze, and drew in a quick, hissing breath of surprise. Perhaps the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, aside from a few sunrises and sunsets in Egypt, lay on the bed, in the form of a sleeping Harry Potter. His face was relaxed and innocent; he looked nothing like his sixteen years, and the moonlight illuminated his pale skin, free of blemishes but for one scar.  
  
The scar that had decided his fate long before he was old enough to talk.  
  
"Beautiful . " Percy murmured, stepping unconsciously closer.  
  
Harry, as if in response to Percy's presence, gave a sleepy noise and turned to him, bangs falling into his eyes. On impulse and rules be damned, Percy reached out to brush the stray hair away. The younger boy made a contented sound and snuggled deeper under his ratty blanket.  
  
Maybe it was the sight of pure innocence that attracted Percy to Harry, and maybe it was that Harry was young and free and joyful. Grinning ruefully, the elder Weasley boy sat down at the edge of the bed and softly caressed Harry's face. There had been a time when he himself had been a troublemaker, but that had ended once Charlie had left for Hogwarts. Then the twins, Ron, and Ginny had come along, leaving him as the older brother, the responsible one.  
  
And we all know how that turned out, an obnoxious little voice informed him.  
  
"Oh, shut up," Percy muttered at himself, "I know I turned into a workaholic, but you can hardly blame me."  
  
Yes I can . I am you.  
  
Percy sighed. "Fine then. Blame me all you want, but it's not going to change anything."  
  
Harry stirred under his covers, Percy's warmth drawing him like a moth to a flame. Blushing hotly but not daring to move for fear of waking him up, Percy allowed the boy to do something he normally never would have, even under these circumstances.  
  
"You're something special, Harry," he whispered, "I hope you know that."  
  
He nearly fell off the bed when someone answered him.  
  
"No I'm not."  
  
"Ha - Harry! What are you doing up?" Percy asked, rising swiftly, blushing the same color as his hair.  
  
Harry sat up, groping about blindly for his glasses. When he found them and put them on, he fixed Percy with the same piercing gaze that had first attracted him to the younger boy. Only now that gaze was making him feel uncomfortable, as if his every secret was being laid out on the floor.  
  
"I could ask you the same thing, you know," he whispered, "If the Dursley's wake up and find you here, we're both going to be in trouble."  
  
Percy turned to the door and pulled out his wand. He pointed it casually, with a hint of smugness in his posture.  
  
"Silencio!" he muttered, and turned back to Harry, "There. Now they won't hear us."  
  
"But won't I get in trouble?"  
  
"No. They'll know it was me using the magic," he said, offering as close to a smirk as he could get.  
  
Harry rolled his eyes, but smiled.  
  
"That's right," he sighed, "I do keep forgetting you work for the Ministry. . How are things over there? Does Fudge still not believe Dumbledore?"  
  
Percy motioned to the foot of Harry's bed, warily. "May I?"  
  
"Oh, of course!" Harry blushed and shifted to make room.  
  
The third eldest Weasley brother nodded and sat down gratefully. He propped his chin on one palm, staring at the floor for a while.  
  
"Fudge," he started, slowly, "Is one of the biggest dolts I believe I've ever had the displeasure of meeting."  
  
Harry gaped.  
  
"Oh, don't look at me like that," Percy grinned, "I don't try to kiss up to everyone down at the Ministry, just those who are necessary. Besides . with Crouch, I was just trying to get his attention. You know we need the money."  
  
Here he paused to look down, frowning at the floor. Harry looked away sheepishly. Money was a touchy subject for the Weasley family. After a time, Percy looked back up at Harry, setting his own piercing gaze on the younger boy.  
  
"As for your original questions, why I'm here and what I'm doing up, I can answer in two words."  
  
Harry looked at his best friend's brother carefully. "And what might those be?"  
  
"Happy Birthday."  
  
There was a long silence in which the younger boy seemingly tried to digest the meaning of the two words. Percy wondered idly if he'd ever heard them before, but quickly squashed that thought. Of course he'd heard them before, he'd heard them from Ron and Hermione every year, just never from Percy the Prefect.  
  
"You . " Harry started, "You . came all the way . here . to wish me a happy birthday?"  
  
The red head smiled and nodded. Harry noted absently that he looked utterly adorable with his head still tilted and rested on one palm.  
  
"But . not even Ron comes out here for my birthday. I wouldn't come out here for my birthday!"  
  
"It's as I said. You're something special. I wouldn't come out for just anybody."  
  
"But I'm not! I don't want to be special! Or famous! Or anything out of the ordinary! I'm tired of having people stare at my scar!" Harry whispered furiously, "I just want to be Harry! Not the Boy Who Lived, not the savior of the wizarding world, just Harry!"  
  
"Harry."  
  
"What?"  
  
"For someone who's quite in classes, you've got a huge mouth."  
  
Harry looked down, a sheepish smile tugging at the corner of his lips even as the fire drained out of his brilliant green eyes.  
  
"Sorry."  
  
"Don't be. You're being you," Percy grinned, "Though it would be nice to get a word in inch-wise."  
  
"Sorry."  
  
"Would you stop saying "sorry"?"  
  
"Sorry."  
  
Percy sat up straight and glared at his young friend, who grinned impishly back up at him. He shook an index finger at Harry.  
  
"You," the red head sighed, "Are intolerable."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
Now Percy sighed and dropped his head back into his palms, covering his face. He took a deep breath, desperate not to let Harry see the huge smile on his face. Finally he looked back up and motioned to the present that was waiting on Harry's bedside table.  
  
"Well? Are you going to open it or not?"  
  
Without a sound, the younger boy pulled the box to him and set it carefully on his lap. He examined the Snitch-covered wrapping paper, grinning, then carefully tore it off. His eyes went wide when he saw what was inside.  
  
"Wow . Percy . it's . "  
  
"I hoped you would like it," the red head grinned.  
  
Harry clutched the autographed posters of the Chudley Cannons and Vicktor Krum to his chest and grinned up at Percy. Vicktor Krum scowled up at them from where he was crushed to the boy's slight frame, waving slightly. The Cannons held out their broomsticks proudly while their coach sobbed in the background with a trophy; they had actually won that match.  
  
"Thank you," was all Harry could say.  
  
"You're welcome. Happy Birthday, Harry," Percy smiled, "I know you don't want me to say it again, but you're special, and it's the truth. Not because you're the Boy Who Lived, but because you're . well, you. You befriended Ron when you could have sided with Draco, and not many people would do that. You're a wonderful guest, mum loves you. You make her feel like she's a good mother, or something. I think that's what she said, at any rate."  
  
"And you, Percy, deserve more than you allow yourself. You're smart, you work for the Ministry, and yes, I know under that exterior there's a sense of humor somewhere. You just don't allow yourself to be happy."  
  
Percy started a bit at Harry's insight, then sighed and nodded.  
  
"You're right. I'm a complete workaholic and perfectionist. There's not much I can do to change that now."  
  
"I'm not asking you to. But there's one thing I will suggest."  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"Take a vacation. If anyone asks, say you're taking a Workaholic's Holiday."  
  
"Where?"  
  
"With me."  
  
Harry stopped any other attempts at further conversation by launching himself almost into Percy's lap and kissing the other boy firmly on the lips. Percy responded in kind, wrapping his arms securely around the smaller boy's waist. A small note fell to the floor, face up, and left forgotten until morning.  
  
Dear Harry,  
  
Happy Birthday!  
  
I hope this reaches you in good health and happiness. I've never been good at expressing my feelings in words, so I'll say it here, and pray you don't hate me.  
  
I love you.  
  
Love, Percy  
  
~ Finished ~  
  
So, what did you think?  
  
Now, I'm not sure if there are Apparation Wards around Privet Drive, but there aren't any for purposes of this fic, so nyaaa! =^-^=  
  
Also, I don't know if the expression is "a word in inch-wise" but that's one that I use all the time, so that's where that came from. 


End file.
